


Lay Me Down

by PlasmaBooks



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: F/M, Panic Attacks, They are together, death tw, gwen is in mourning, miles wants to help but can only do so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 14:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18780118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlasmaBooks/pseuds/PlasmaBooks
Summary: "Three years. Three whole years and it feels like it was just yesterday.There were scales. Scales, and they were everywhere on him. And he was cold. He kept getting colder, no matter how much she screamed at him."Gwen forgets a very important date and it comes back to bite her.





	Lay Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't ENTIRELY relevant, but it felt important to share. Gwen and Miles are older in this story. Miles is 16, and Gwen is 17.

The sound of a stall door slamming shut and locking disturbs the once quiet ambience of the restroom; a pitiful mix of gasps and sobs follow after. Gwen forces a hand to her mouth and over her nose, trying to stifle the noise, but it only makes her body rack with force. She backs up until her legs touch the toilet seat. It’s been three years. Oh, god, it’s been so long. Another sob pushes its way out of her throat and she stumbles against the stall wall.

_Peter. Peter, oh god, I’m so sorry._

She shouldn’t have forgotten. How could she?

How could she let herself get so busy that she’d _forget_?

Her throat begins to get unbearably tight, and so she whimpers.

The sound of knuckles rapping on the stall door forces her to quiet abruptly.

“Gwen?”

It’s Miles.

He sounds nervous.

He’s not supposed to be in there and he knows it.

“Are you okay?”

It’s a stupid question. He knows that, too.

His hand rests on the stall door and slowly closes into a fist.

“Gwen…?”

There’s no response.

Inside the stall, Gwen lowers the toilet seat and wraps her arms around herself.

“Okay.” Miles says softly. “I’ll be waiting outside. I love you.”

She doesn’t hear his footsteps retreat, but the bathroom door shuts soon after, confirming his departure.

Three years. Three whole years and it feels like it was just yesterday.

There were scales. Scales, and they were everywhere on him. And he was cold. He kept getting colder, no matter how much she screamed at him.

He was the Lizard. Disguised. Mindless. _Trapped._

He was annoying her, so she went full force. Gave it everything she had. Attacked.

And it _killed_ him.

It killed him, but _she_ had to live through it. It was unfair.

And she had forgotten. She had failed to remember what she’d done, and she’d failed so hard that it _really_ hurt now.

She’d killed her best friend.

She wants to wail, and scream and yell until her throat scratches.

Her heart hurts. She can’t. She _can’t_. Her head hurts. She’s scratching again.

_Can you die from guilt? Can you?_

Time passes. Maybe too little, maybe too much.

Gwen steps out of the stall.

Her eyes are puffy, gross and swollen. And red. Just like the tip of her nose. The streak of tears are ingrained on her cheeks, moving in gray, wet marks down to her jawline.

She looks like a mess, but feels nothing anymore.

All there is is empty. She opens the bathroom door. Steps out.

She sees the street cars before she sees Miles, but he’s there like he said he would be. When he looks at her, his eyes reflect pity.

Must have connected the dots.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She mutters, to which he nods.

“Then we won’t.” Miles replies softly. “What _do_ you want to do?”

“Go home.” She’s staring off into the distance of New York. Blankly. Numbly. “Go home and just fucking _sleep_.”

She doesn’t cuss often. Miles masks his surprise. “Okay, Gwen.” He responds. “Let’s get you home.”

They don their masks around the same time, and swing off in harmony. It’s a broken harmony. There’s nothing to celebrate. Nothing to sing about. 

They reach her house in just a minute and latch onto the wall below her bedroom window.

Gwen crawls through first, landing convictionlessly on the soft carpet of her bedroom floor. Miles follows suit, landing just beside her. Staring at her, with a hint of earnest in his eyes.

If she just wants them to lay there, that’s fine. But Gwen gets back up and walks to her bed, so Miles follows. He doesn’t join her in it, instead standing there dumbly and watching her crawl in.

She gets under the blankets, glances at him, and speaks.

“In. Now.”

That’s all the invitation he needs. Miles crawls in and over her slowly, squeezing into what space is available to her left. Gwen puts a comforter over them both, leaving only their heads visible.

“Stay. Please.”

“I will, Gwen.” Miles replies softly, comfortingly. Her eyes close slowly, and so he copies her. Somewhere along the way, she finds herself in his arms, just like she always does. Somewhere along the way, they find themselves asleep.


End file.
